


Don't Need Your Nobility

by Hazel_Athena



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Everybody Lives, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 16:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Athena/pseuds/Hazel_Athena
Summary: In which Faraday has the audacity to be a reasonable human being for once, and Vasquez is a jerk who isn't appreciating it properly.





	Don't Need Your Nobility

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adora Addams (Apollymi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apollymi/gifts).



> I started writing this forever ago for Adora who was having a bad day. I got about 4/5ths of the way through before stuttering out. Finishing it off now and posting. Hope you like it, m'dear!

He comes treacherously close to accepting Sam’s offer when the warrant officer invites him to join his crew on a permanent basis. The thought of staying with these people, of falling in with men he trusts, men he’s come to think of as friends if not more is … well, it’s appealing to say the least. He’s been on his own for so long it can’t not be, but it’s for this very reason that he says no.

Sam looks surprised when he gives him his answer, tells him that everyone else is coming along, even Faraday – as if that’s some kind of shock where the man in question hasn't been just as desperate for a sense of belonging as the rest of them. Vasquez is happy Faraday at least will be able to get what he wants, possibly even what he needs. He deserves it after everything he’s been through.

“I can’t.” He says when Sam asks him why he’s saying no. “It’s too dangerous.”

Sam frowns. “We’d have your back, Vasquez. We wouldn’t be dragging you any place we thought you’d be in danger.”

“I know,” he replies honestly. “I didn’t mean for me.”

Understanding flashes across Sam’s face, followed by something softer. “You’re a better man than you give yourself credit for, son. Take some time to think about it, the offer’s not going anywhere.”

“Then I am.” Vasquez tells him deciding to nip this behaviour in the bud right away. “I’ve been here too long anyway, amigo. It’s not good for me to linger in one place.”

“That’s your choice. I can’t make the decision for you.”  Still looking disappointed, Sam extends his hand to shake. “We could use you out there, though, and we’ll miss you.”

With an unexpected burst of feeling welling up in his sternum, Vasquez awkwardly takes the proffered hand, dropping it as soon as propriety says is allowable. “I appreciate it, but I still say this is better. I won’t be responsible for bringing my trouble down on you all.”

Sam shrugs and starts to turn away. “Like, I said, that’s your choice. Although, there is one thing,” he pauses and here his expression turns sly, “you’re going to have to break the news to Faraday. I am not throwing myself on that stick of dynamite. Not for love or money.”

Vasquez blanches, so startled that he’s not quick enough to hide it. He tries to recover and is reasonably certain he fails. “I don’t know what you mean by that, Sam. I’m sure Faraday will take the news fine.”

“Mhmm.” Sam hums. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, I suppose, but I’m still not telling him.”

Vasquez scowls at the man’s retreating back, giving serious thought to just heading for the stables and leaving without another word. Unfortunately, the rest of the seven might follow him if he doesn’t bid them a proper farewell, which would defeat the purpose of his moving on in the first place. Especially since some of them were bound to be more … vitriolic than others. Sighing, he orients himself in the direction of the boarding house and the last place he had seen his remaining companions.

Billy, Goodnight, Red Harvest and Horne are all clustered around one of the first floor tables when he enters the building, and Goodnight waves him over upon spotting him.

“There you are,” he says as Vasquez approaches. “Sam’s been looking all over creation for you. I don’t suppose you stumbled across him before coming in here?”

“Sí, I did,” Vasquez tells him. “Where’s Faraday?” He asks, wanting to prevent anyone from  pressing him on what his answer had been. Some sixth sense is telling him he needs to speak with their missing member before he lets the others know his decision.

Goodnight quirks an eyebrow at him, possibly because he hadn’t expected to have Vasquez cut him off. “He headed  upstairs a little while ago, said something about getting his belongings in order. Why do you ask?”

“Sam asked me to pass a message along to him. I’ll be back in a moment.” Turning away quickly enough that not even Goodnight can get the words out to comment further, he moves briskly toward the staircase to be getting about his business.

As Goodnight had indicated, he finds Faraday in the room they’ve been sharing since the other man had recovered enough from his injuries to leave the town’s makeshift infirmary in favour of a real bed in the boarding house. He’s rooting through one of his saddle bags, but looks up and grins when Vasquez enters the room. “Hey, Vas,” he says easily, “you here to start packin’ too?”

While he does need to get his effects in order, that’s not something Vasquez can concern himself with at the moment. The longer he distracts himself from this, the harder it’ll be to go through with it. “Ah, no,” he says then, scrubbing a hand through his hair in light of a sudden need to start fidgeting. “I actually … eh, I came to tell you I’m not going with the rest of you. I just spoke to Sam. He said he understood, but that I had to tell everyone myself.”

“Huh.” Faraday says. His face, which has developed new scars thanks to the battle for Rose Creek, most notably a series of gashes over the left side of his jaw where shrapnel from the gatling gun had sliced into him as he’d fallen, goes inscrutable. After so much time spent always able to read the man, Vasquez finds it decidedly uncomfortable. “Can’t say I was expectin’ this. Why not?”

Vasquez shrugs, aiming to appear nonchalant. “Just doesn’t seem like the right move for me.”

Now Faraday’s eyes narrow. “Bullshit,” he says flatly. “At least have the common decency to tell me the truth. Don’t lie to my face.”

Vasquez frowns and hunches in on himself without deciding to. “I’m not lying. This is my choice, guero.”

“Ah ah, no, don’t you ‘guero’ me, Vas.” Faraday waggles an admonishing finger at him. “Tell the truth, shame the devil.”

“That does not even make sense,” Vasquez protests, but Faraday just stares at him coolly, clearly disinterested in his attempts to deflect the conversation. He sighs. “It is a bad idea for me to go with you all. I invite trouble wherever I go.”

Faraday snorts. “And what? You think the rest of us don’t? I almost got myself shot to death by a pair of inbred yokels with maybe three quarters of a functionin’ brain between ‘em not five minutes before Sam bought my damn horse out from under me and dragged me off on the ultimate fool's errand. Trust me when I say I know a thing or two about invitin’ trouble.”

“That is different,” Vasquez snaps. He knows that story already, had had it related to him during one of the many nights they’d spent lying awake in this room after … well, _after_. “You were being foolish that day.”

“I’m foolish a lot of days,” Faraday reminds him, “but I think that’s a word to best describe you right now. What with this stupidity you’ve apparently gotten into your head. You want to come with us, and we both know it.”

Vasquez shrugs not bothering to deny it. Faraday knows him too well to believe him, and lying will just irritate him further. “What I want does not matter. This is the right thing for me to do.”

“Vas, how many times do I have to say the word bullshit before you stop spewin’ it in my direction?”

“I am trying to be serious, guero.” Vasquez says, exasperated. “Stop being difficult.”

“It’s Joshua, thanks.” Faraday replies with a smirk. “I know you know that. You were usin’ it just fine last night.”

Feeling his face heat and hating it, Vasquez attempts to hide his embarrassment behind a scowl. “ _That_ is not relevant here, cabron. We are talking about other things.”

“Yeah, mainly about you bein’ an idiot.” Faraday agrees. Then he shrugs and goes back to organizing his gear. “Not that it matters, I ain’t goin’ to sit back and let you act this dumb.”

“I fail to see how you can stop me. It’s my choice to decide if I go with you or not.” Vasquez points out.

“Not exactly,” Faraday disagrees. He briefly looks up from what he’s doing to flash Vasquez his most irritating grin. “I told Sam yes because I assumed you would too. If you’re not joinin’ up then I’m not either.”

Taken off guard, Vasquez blinks. “You can’t do that,” he snaps when he regains his voice again. “You want to go with them. I _know_ you want to go with them. Why would you say no just because I did?”

Faraday gives him a look which suggests he’s a particularly dim child; it’s a deeply unsettling expression to be on the receiving end of considering its owner is a man who once thought charging a gatling gun on horseback was a good idea. He holds up a hand, flicking out corresponding fingers each time he makes a new point. “One, I can do whatever I damn well please. Two, you’re right; I do want to go with them, how nice of you to notice. However, that leads me to three; I want to go with you more, so that’s what I’m goin’ to do.”

Vasquez gapes at him, a whirlwind of emotion kicking up in his chest, but Faraday just stares calmly back. “You can’t do that,” Vasquez snaps, finally, slightly panicked. Here he is trying to protect the man, and the stupid bastard is ruining it all.

“Can too.” Faraday tells him. He clicks his tongue when all Vasquez does is continue to stare. “I mean, you can complain about havin’ me around as much as you want, but unless you really are willin’ to shoot me, which, I gotta be honest, darlin’, I’m not all that concerned about, then you’re goin’ to be stuck with me.”

“I – you,” Vasquez growls out a frustrated noise and his hands clench with a sudden need to throttle the man in front of him. “There is a five hundred dollar bounty on my head, posters everywhere with my face on them. Going with me will only attract unwanted attention for you too.”

Faraday gives him a wide-eyed look that does absolutely nothing to make him look innocent. “Well, gosh, if that’s somethin’ we’re gonna have to worry about then maybe we might want to think about joinin’ up with a crew thanks to how there’s safety in numbers and all that. I don’t suppose you know where we might find such a band to throw in with, do you?”

Vasquez glares at him. “I _hate_ you. Eres desagradable.”

“Tú también,” Faraday shoots back. His accent is terrible, but not so much so that Vasquez can’t understand what he’s saying. Not for the first time, he regrets giving in when Faraday had asked him to teach him some Spanish as a distraction during his long period of recuperation.

Barely resisting the urge to go bang his head off the nearest wall, Vasquez throws his hands in the air, thoroughly exasperated. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“You’re jokin’ right?” Faraday stares at him incredulously, giving up on his current task in favor of crossing the room to plant himself firmly in Vasquez’s personal space. Reaching out, he hooks his fingers through two of Vasquez’s belt loops and drags him forward by the hips until their bodies are pressed together. “I don’t know, muchacho, what could I possibly be after, do you think?”

“Trouble,” Vasquez says, “you are after trouble.”

Faraday shrugs as he leans in closer. “I can’t lie; I’ve always had a knack for findin’ that, and I don’t foresee it changin’ any time soon. Now, come on,” he adds with a crooked grin. “Are you honestly goin’ to try and give all this up? You hate bein’ alone, darlin’. If you go off that way you’ll be in danger and you’ll be miserable. There’s no need of it.”

Because he’s in some ways a weaker man than he’d care to admit, Vasquez lets the kiss happen when it comes. Even worse, he leans into it, opening his mouth to let Faraday slip his tongue inside and groaning when the man walks him backwards until he hits the wall behind him. “You’re cheating,” he grumbles when Faraday pulls back.

“Mhm.” Faraday hums thoughtfully. “The best gamblers always do. So, what’s it goin’ to be, Vas? The way I see it, your choices are either we go with the rest of the crew and you get other people around  to act as a buffer when I inevitably start drivin’ you crazy, or it’s just the two of us and eventually you'll wind up shootin’ me when I get too annoyin’.”

Vasquez snorts. “I could also save myself the time and  just shoot you now.”

“Or you could do that,” Faraday agrees, grinning widely. “I’ll be nice and let you pick.”

Sighing, Vasquez lets his head fall back against the wall behind him with a heavy thump. “This is not letting me pick, this is you having to get your own way as usual.”

Faraday’s grin fades and his expression turns more somber. “Vas if you can look me in the eye and tell me honest to god that you’d rather take off by yourself then I’ll back off and let you go. If you can’t, well,” he shrugs. “You figure it out.”

Vasquez squares his shoulders, intending to take the opportunity Faraday’s given him and lie through his teeth. That is, that’s his plan until he meets Faraday’s gaze and feels himself fold as quickly as he’s started. He groans. “Like I said, cheating.”

His grin coming back once again, Faraday worms his way into Vasquez’s personal space with a wink. “Should I assume that I win then?”

“Didn’t know we were playing a game, guero,” Vasquez replies.

“Sure we are,” Faraday tells him, rolling his eyes like he thinks Vasquez has deliberately missed something obvious. “It’s just a regular poker game, and I’m callin’ your bluff to see if you fold.”

“That is a terrible comparison,” Vasquez scoffs.

Faraday rolls his eyes again, and fists a hand in the worn linen of Vasquez’s shirt, shaking him slightly. “Regardless. Yes or no, Vas?”

Vasquez gives him a long look. “How obnoxious are you going to be about this?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“Incredibly so,” Faraday admits, completely unashamed. “But I mean it when I say I will follow you if you keep up this crap, and I will be such a pain in the ass while I do it, you won't know what hit you."

This time when Vasquez sighs there’s a note of fondness in it that he doesn’t try to hide. “You are always a pain in the ass, guero. It’s probably a part of your charm.”

“Well at least you admit I’m charmin’,” Faraday says. Eyes sparkling he leans in for another kiss. “Now, do you want to tell the boys you’ve pulled your head out of your ass, or should I?”

“Joshua, stop talking,” Vasquez decides. “We can both tell them later.”

“And am I to assume that until then we have better things to be doin’? Faraday asks.

“Sí,” Vasquez rests his hands on the other man’s hips, his fingers diggin into yielding flesh. “That is a fair assumption,guerito.”


End file.
